18th Birthday Caribou Hunt, Special Time For Father and Daughter! - Part 2

It was now September 17, my eighteenth birthday. All the guys in camp wished me extra good luck and hoped I got the big one. They all thought it was awesome how I was celebrating my birthday, especially for being a girl. We were going back to the same spot we had been the previous day. On our way we spotted a large heard of bull caribou up on the ridge. We motored over to shore, bailed out of the boat, and hit the ground running. Our hearts were pumping and my dad and I were power walking so fast our guide could not even keep up. We hiked up a large hill. As we approached the ridge we crawled up. There they were, about 500 yards away. The only problem was they were feeding away from us at a brisk walk. We tried cutting them off half a dozen of times but were never able to get close enough for a shot.

After several miles we gave up knowing our endurance was not as good as the caribou. On our jaunt back to the boat, out of the trees came three bull caribou and a handful of cows and calves. We settled down behind a few rocks and waited. The largest bull came running right to us, it was crazy, usually they run the opposite way, but the caribou did not see us. Boom! I let my gun do some talking. The caribou stumbled, I hit him good. I waited a few seconds but he did not go down. I let my gun speak one last time. Then down he went. As soon as he hit the ground, my eyes lit up, and the largest smile was painted across my face. I got my birthday boo! We took loads of pictures, butchered the caribou, and headed back for camp. Even though my caribou was not a monster I was pleased. That day all but two guys at camp shot at least one caribou. We celebrated our unbelievable success with a large homemade birthday cake, made by our camp cook and telling of stories.

The following day my dad shot his first caribou. His was even nicer than mine. We could not believe it. I wish they would grow wildlife like these back where I come from. My dad’s caribou was unique. It had palmated tops and a rhinosaurus looking shovel. He shot it in the middle of a down pour, so we quickly took photos. I was really cold so I ended up going back to camp with the incredible camp manager, Kent and Joe. After about two hours my dad and Yvan arrived back at the lodge with the caribou and them dripping sweat, because of the grueling pack out.

Amanda Schmid - Montana

Stay tuned for the continuation of Amanda’s story coming soon….